


Just Enough

by mickeylovesian



Series: The Coming Wave [3]
Category: Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 04:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeylovesian/pseuds/mickeylovesian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this was written as a prompt on tumblr, which I decided to use as a sequel to A Long December.</p>
<p>the prompt was: Ian thinks about how he and Mickey will never be able to share a room at his house like Fiona/Jimmy and Lip/Mandy.  I kinda took it and ran with it</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Enough

Ian rolled over and looked at the clock 7:47 am. He couldn’t remember what had woken him, but he was thankful for it. He had been having the same dream that had been plaguing him for the past few months: “No son of mine is gonna be a goddamn AIDS monkey.” He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. That’s when he heard it: the bed squeaking in the next room. He was sure if he listened closely he would be able to hear the moans of his brother and best friend through the thin walls. He banged on the wall and heard Mandy’s giggle and Lip say, “Stop listening perv!”

Ian sighed and got out of bed. He looked at Carl asleep on the top bunk and Liam sitting quietly in his crib. “Eeen” Liam said happily as Ian lifted him out of the crib.

“Morning little dude,” Ian said, placing him on the ground to change his diaper.

“Hungy,” Liam said when Ian was finished. Just then Fiona quietly opened the door.

“Oh sorry, did he wake you?”

“No. couldn’t sleep with all the noise,” Ian said nodding to the wall.

“Christ I know. I know she’s your friend and all but the bitch has to keep it down,” Fiona said. She picked up Liam and brought him downstairs. Ian grabbed his CD player and got back into bed. He turned the volume up to drown out the sounds.

 

He was happy for Lip; finally after all the shit that happened between him Mandy and Karen, Lip finally seemed happy with Mandy. Mandy, of course, had never been happier. He couldn’t hate them, even if they had woken him up at 8:00 on a Sunday morning. Despite that, and he would never admit it to anybody, he was jealous, not only of them, but of Fiona—when Jimmy had been around, Kev and V, and anyone else who was able to spend the night lying next to the person they loved. 

He thought of Mickey, a few blocks away, asleep in his bed with his wife and automatically felt sick to his stomach. He resisted the strong urge to punch a hole in his wall and closed his eyes. Ian was trying to be ok with the situation; he was more used to it than he had been months before, but it still hurt knowing that Mickey was lying next to some commie skank instead of him.

When he had gotten off the bus that cold December day he had sworn to himself that he was done with Mickey. No matter how easily he avoided him, how many nights he spent looking for solace with other guys, he couldn’t get him off his mind.

Then, on New Year’s, when he had wanted nothing more than to be alone, Mickey had found him at the fields. They had talked, not about everything, but it had been a start. Ian was sure that nothing had changed, but Mickey had made an effort to communicate, the least Ian could do was listen. 

Things started slowly; not actively avoiding each other, they began to run into one another. Mickey later admitted, although he had been drunk and never brought it up again, that he had actually begun to seek him out. They talked more in those first few weeks than they had in almost two years of sleeping together. Mickey still hadn’t told Ian what he wanted to hear, but Ian didn’t hold it against him. He knew that he couldn’t force him into saying anything, but that he would say it in his own time. And as time went on he began to understand, better than he ever had, that Mickey didn’t need to say anything. He had already told Ian everything he needed to through his actions. He might not have been able to stop him, but he had been able to find him. 

They began to hang out, first at the store, or the abandoned buildings. Once Terry went back to jail, they began to spend time at Mickey’s house, when Svetlana wasn’t there, which was often. It was awhile before Ian could bring himself to even go into the bedroom, but with everything else, he adjusted. 

“It’s only three years,” Mickey always reminded him. He had explained to Ian that Svetlana and him had agreed, secretly of course, that once she officially became a US citizen, they would get divorced. Ian found peace in this knowledge, although he did often bring up the fact that the time would go by quicker if he enlisted. Mickey had given him a dead leg the first few times he brought it up, but now kept quiet. The thought of enlisting was still always in the back of his brain, but he knew that with Jimmy gone off who knows where, and Lip busy with classes at the University of Chicago, they needed Ian’s help.

They made no promises for the future; instead they took each day as it came. Ian knew that all relationships had problems and if he needed a reminder all he had to do was look at Fiona, who had been covering her pain for months of Jimmy leaving, or Lip, somehow accepting what Mandy did. He might decide to enlist, might change his mind about being willing to wait the three years. Mickey might decide that they weren’t worth the always present threat of Terry, even in jail. Maybe he never would be able to be honest with himself and continue to live a lie. Ian didn’t know if they would make it, but he tried not to think about endings; instead he focused on the good times they were able to share. 

 

Lip popped his head in the door and Ian paused the CD. “Sorry if we woke you. We’re gonna wake and bake, wanna join?”

“Sure,” Ian said, getting up and following Lip into his room. Mandy was putting her shirt on and lying in bed. She smiled and began to roll a joint. Ian sat down on the bed, another surge of jealousy racing through him.

He was fine with how things were with Mickey. They were closer than they had ever been and he was happy. He loved Mickey, and he knew, even without the words that Mickey loved him too. Sometimes, however, Ian wanted something more than hidden exchanges, quickies in backrooms, and the continuous fear that it would all fall apart again. He wanted morning sex, wake and bakes, breakfast in bed. He wanted to fall asleep next to the man he loved and wake up next to in the morning, and everything in between. 

His phone beeped. Cant sleep. Bitch is snoring. U up? Ian responded and quickly received another text: Meet me at the spot. Ian smiled, made excuses and went to get dressed.

Fifteen minutes later as he opened the door to the roof to see Mickey standing at the edge smoking a cigarette, the early morning May sunshine surrounding him, Ian smiled. He may want more, but for now, this was just enough.


End file.
